


as it was

by peacefrog



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Declarations Of Love, Fix-It, M/M, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: Quentin stepped through the empty doorway and into the unknown. He blinked and it was dark, then light. So much light. The warm amber glow of the Physical Kids’ Cottage. He could feel the warmth of it down in his bones, every molecule in his body vibrating with brand new magic. Brand new life.





	as it was

“This is as far as I go, brother.”

Quentin stepped through the empty doorway and into the unknown. He blinked and it was dark, then light. So much light. The warm amber glow of the Physical Kids’ Cottage. He could feel the warmth of it down in his bones, every molecule in his body vibrating with brand new magic. Brand new life.

Quentin looked around. The cottage was quiet and mostly empty, save for Margo reading tucked into a corner of the sofa. “Son of a clit!” She jumped to her feet when she spotted him there, her face twisting with shock and maybe a little terror. “Q?”

Quentin’s feet were frozen to the floor. “I don’t… Margo?”

“How the fuck are you here right now?”

Quentin blinked. “Am I… in heaven?”

“I sure as shit hope not.” 

Margo ran to the staircase and called for Eliot, called him again after no more than a second had passed. “Coming, Bambi. Why so urgent? I’m coming as fast as I—” Eliot froze on the last step, teetering a little on his cane. He locked eyes with Quentin across the room. “Holy shit.”

The metro card was still clutched in Quentin’s hand. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now,” he said, watching Eliot limp toward him.

“You…” Eliot stood before Quentin, his bright eyes wide with disbelief. “You died.”

Quentin’s eyes flicked between the card in his hand and Eliot’s face. “I died.”

Eliot let his cane clank to the floor and he pulled Quentin unsteadily into his arms. “I am on a shitload of painkillers right now so please tell me that it’s really you,” he mumbled into Quentin’s hair.

Eliot wobbled in Quentin’s arms, and Quentin struggled to keep them upright. “If it were just the painkillers how would that help?”

Eliot pressed a trembling kiss into Quentin’s hair. “Don’t fuck with me, Coldwater.”

“It’s really me. It’s me, El. It’s me. And I think we’d better sit down before you fall over.”

Margo helped Eliot to steady himself as he pulled away. She put the cane back in his hand and helped lead him over to the sofa. Quentin followed, studying the metro card, still blinking in disbelief. Mere minutes had passed since he’d stood with Penny, watching his friends turn to ashes the remnants of his life.

“How long was I gone?” Quentin asked.

“It’s been a week,” said Margo.

“Shit.” Quentin looked between them, back down at the metro card. “It all happened so fast, I… I was in the Underworld and I stepped through a door and then I was just… here.”

“What kind of door?” Eliot asked.

“It was just an empty doorway. Penny was there,” Quentin laughed, gazing into Eliot’s wide eyes, “and he gave me this card and said it would take me where I needed to go.”

“Where you needed…” Eliot reached out and touched Quentin’s face. Delicately. As though he thought it might break. “You’re telling me Penny brought you back to life.”

“I don’t know what happened. I was dead and now I guess… I'm not.”

“Guess it just wasn’t your time, Coldwater.” Margo smiled, her gaze flicking between them before she rose to her feet. “I’m gonna go make myself a drink.”

Eliot’s hand rested on Quentin’s shoulder. “Death never did take with us, did it?”

“Guess not.” Quentin smiled. “How are you holding up?”

“You died, Q. How do you think?” Eliot winced and pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Hey, no. Look at me, El. I meant… the axe. There was so much blood.”

Eliot draped an arm across his middle. “That whole death not taking thing again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to… say anything. To be there with you. I wanted to be there so fucking bad, El. There was no time. I had to get the monster out. We didn’t know how long the bottle would hold.”

“Hey.” Eliot gave him a tired little smile. “You’re here now. Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Quentin shoved the metro card down into his pocket. “So why are you here? Margo still banished from Fillory?”

“That she is. Along with Fen and Josh. And Tick. And Rafe. And… her royal slowness.” Eliot laughed, holding onto his belly. “And yes they are all here for some reason. Well, not right now. Josh had the good sense to take everyone out for a day trip… somewhere. The sloth included. I think. Anyway there are far fewer bathrooms in this place than I remembered. Luckily Bambi’s got me on bed rest so I’ve managed to avoid most of the drama.”

Quentin smiled. “Alice and Julia?”

“Alice is… with the library? She left two days ago. Said it was a good thing, and I believe her. Julia left with Kady. Haven’t seen them since the night we... ” Eliot’s face dropped and he looked away.

“The bonfire,” Quentin said, a sadness coiling in his belly. 

Eliot frowned. “How… you were there?”

“Yes. It was only about ten minutes ago for me. I saw you… I’m so sorry, El. I’m sorry that you had to feel that way. That all of you...”

Eliot’s expression hardened and he straightened his back, held his head up high. “You’re here now. For some reason. And that’s all that matters.”

—

Quentin and Margo helped Eliot up to his room, into his bed. Margo fussed over the pillows behind his back and Eliot whispered something under his breath that made her laugh.

Quentin looked around the room, perched himself on the edge of the bed. “This place hasn’t changed at all since…”

“Since we all banged each other in it,” said Margo, curling up next to Eliot.

“I was gonna say since my first day at Brakebills but… also that.”

“Why so far away?” Eliot reached out a hand to Quentin.

“Oh.” Quentin swallowed. “I didn’t…”

“No,” Eliot said with a smirk. “We’re not doing that now. Come here. I want you close to me.”

Quentin didn’t hesitate. He crawled up onto the bed and tucked himself close to Eliot’s chest, smiled at Margo where she rested on the other side. “Welcome back to life, Coldwater,” she said with a smirk. “You ever do that to us again I’ll kill you myself.”

Eliot sighed. “Now, Bambi—”

“Margo!” Josh shouted from the hall, and they all turned their attention to the open doorway. “Hey, I’m—Holy shit. Q! You’re… not dead anymore.”

“I’m not dead anymore.”

“Okay.” Josh stepped into the room laughing nervously, Fen following close behind. “How?”

“I have no idea.”

“Quentin!” Fen beamed. “I’m so happy you’re alive. Eliot could barely get out of bed and we were worried he was going to—”

“Okay.” Margo peeled herself away from Eliot’s side, led Josh and Fen back toward the hall. “How about we give these two a minute, hmm?”

The door clicked shut behind them and Quentin turned his attention back to Eliot. “You missed me,” he said softly.

“Of course I missed you. You’re all I thought about when I was…” Eliot fell silent for a moment, his breathing shallow. “Maybe we should talk about this when I’m a little less high on whatever it is Margo’s been dosing me with.”

“Okay.” Quentin draped his arm loosely over Eliot’s chest, careful to avoid his wound below. “I’m here. I’m listening. Whatever it is you want to say. Whenever you want to say it.”

—

Quentin’s heart beat quickly in his chest while Eliot dozed beside him. His pulse rattled his bones. His body had never felt so alive. He reached over and groped at his own shoulder, the one that had been rebuilt in Fillory and painted over to look like skin. He gave it a knock and where once there had been wood Quentin found only flesh. Had he truly been reborn? Brand new. Quentin turned his eyes upward to Eliot’s sleeping face.

He was beautiful, Quentin thought. The most beautiful person Quentin had ever seen. He knew every line of Eliot’s face exactly, every mark and imperfection. The rise and fall of his chest, the soft ticking of his heart. The scent of his hair. His bare skin under his clothes. Quentin shifted and Eliot stirred.

“Hey,” Eliot said groggily. “How long was I out?”

“Maybe an hour,” Quentin said softly. “More. I can’t be sure.”

“And you stayed with me the whole time.”

“Yes. I was listening to your heart.”

“Oh,” Eliot said, sounding more awake. “I think I’m ready to talk now.”

They sat in the middle of the bed facing each other, their knees touching with familiar ease. Eliot said, “I thought a lot when I was trapped inside my mind.”

“What was it like in there?”

“I had memories to keep me company. Memories of this place. Margo. You.”

Quentin smiled. “What memories of me?”

Eliot smirked. “Oh, Q. All of them.” He laughed and then his face fell. “One in particular though. One I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. I hadn’t wanted to. Because to remember it was to remember the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life.”

Quentin reached for Eliot then, rested a hand on his knee. “What are you talking about?”

Eliot’s gaze fell down to Quentin’s hand. “I was so fucking cruel to you, Q. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to… I was afraid.”

Quentin swallowed around the lump growing in his throat. “You mean when we remembered? And I…”

“Yes.”

Quentin breathed deep. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Eliot exhaled and met Quentin’s eyes. “I understand that things have changed. It’s been so long. I’m sorry that it took me this long to realize.” Eliot’s eyes filled with tears that didn’t fall. “And then you were gone. I was ready for you. I was ready and it was too late.”

“Fuck. El.” Quentin pressed forward, took Eliot’s face into his hands. “No, hey. No. I’m here. I was never gone. I never wanted—”

Eliot pushed Quentin’s hands away, turned his face and covered his eyes. “Alice said you didn’t even try. She said it was like you wanted to—” Eliot turned back to Quentin with a fire in his eyes. “Q, did you want to die?”

“No.” Quentin pulled his hand away. “No, El. I… I don’t think…”

“Q.”

Quentin’s voice held back a thousand unspeakable words. All he could choke out was, “I don’t remember.”

They sat in silence for a long time, both of them wiping at their eyes. Finally Eliot said, “If I could take it back, I would.” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “If you asked me again, Q, I’d give you my heart forever.”

“El…” 

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“El, I never stopped loving you,” Quentin spit out. Because it was the truth. Because he was reborn. “Do you know how hard I fought to bring you back?”

Eliot nodded, his jaw clenched tight. “Julia told me everything.”

“Then how could you not—” Quentin lunged forward, spurred on by brand new life. He wrapped his arms around Eliot’s shoulders and buried his face in Eliot’s neck, carefully avoiding his wounded middle. “How could you not know that I’m still in love with you?”

Eliot gripped the back of Quentin’s shirt, his breath quickening. “Ask me, Q,” he whispered. “Will you ask me again?”

Quentin pulled back, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “I have to tell you something first. Because I don’t want anything dishonest between us and I—”

“I know about Alice. I know it’s complicated.”

“It is.”

“Talk to her first,” Eliot said, brushing the hair back from Quentin’s brow. “Talk to her, and ask me again.”

—

“Is it really you?” Alice stepped forward, her eyes wide and damp behind her glasses.

“It’s really me.” Quentin sat down on the window seat and Alice launched herself into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“How?” She pulled back sniffling. “How are you alive?”

“I don’t know. I just am.”

“Why didn’t you run? There was time, Q.” She gripped his face, her whole body trembling. “Why didn’t you run away?”

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry, Alice.”

“Tell me that you didn’t want to die. That you didn’t just stand there and—For nothing... “

Quentin couldn’t offer her anymore than a sad smile and, “It all happened so fast.”

She slid out of his lap and wrung her hands together. “Okay. Are you back for good?”

“I hope so. I think I am.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. I was with Eliot. And then…”

“Oh.” Her face fell and then brightened again. “He told me everything, you know. About the mosaic. It was the only thing keeping me together. Knowing you lived that beautiful life. Knowing that you got to live. And that you had someone to love you for so long.”

They sat in silence for a long time, Alice studying Quentin’s face, as though she were trying to make herself believe it was really him. He loved her, he did. But things were different now. He could see it all so clearly through his brand new eyes.

Quentin broke the silence. “Listen, Alice…”

“I know that you’re in love with him,” she blurted out. “And he’s in love with you.”

“Alice.”

“None of that matters, Q. Not anymore. You’re alive.” She took Quentin’s hands in her hands. “It doesn’t matter if you’re my boyfriend or my best friend or something else. You being alive and in my life is all that matters.”

Quentin blinked back tears and smiled. “I want that, Alice. I want you in my life. I meant what I said. But maybe…”

“I know. It’s okay. It’s okay, Q. I know.”

—

Quentin found Eliot sitting by the fire. Upstairs, commotion reigned. Tick shouted something and a door slammed. Quentin smiled and knelt in front of Eliot in his chair. “Hey.”

Eliot gave Quentin a tired smile, firelight playing in his eyes. “Hey.”

“I have something that I wanted to ask you if you have a minute.”

Eliot brushed a hand down Quentin’s cheek. “Oh, Q. Can’t you see how terribly busy I am?”

Quentin laughed. “Listen, El. I know this might sound dumb but. Think about it. We work.” 

Eliot leaned back in his chair, gazed at Quentin with adoration in his eyes. “I know we do. Because we lived it.”

“It’s proof of concept.” Quentin rested his head gently on Eliot’s knee, gazed up into his eyes in the firelight. “What if we gave it a shot?”

Eliot touched Quentin’s face with gentle reverence. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Quentin Coldwater?”

Quentin turned his face, pressed a kiss to the palm of Eliot’s hand. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you, Eliot Waugh.”

“Well. Since you asked so sweetly. Come here.”

Quentin gently straddled Eliot’s lap, careful not to press his weight down on Eliot’s still healing body. He took Eliot’s face into his hands and sealed their lips in as easy kiss. Slowly. There was no rush now. Perhaps there would never be a rush again. There was no world to save and magic thrummed all around, deep inside their living hearts. Quentin kissed Eliot’s jaw, the tip of his nose, all along his brow.

Eliot sighed happily. “Let’s go to bed.”

—

Margo eyed them from the doorway. “Mind his stitches, Coldwater.” She turned away and shut the door.

Quentin knelt next to Eliot on the bed. “Magic is back, El. Why didn’t they just—“

“I wanted to feel it.” Eliot lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling. “When you were gone this was the only pain that made any sense.”

“But I’m here now,” Quentin said.

“You’re here now.”

“I want to try something.” Quentin ran his fingers gently up the line of buttons on Eliot’s waistcoat. “If you’ll let me.”

Eliot looked to him, smiling in the semi-dark. “I think I’d let you do just about anything you wanted right now, Q.”

“Good.”

Quentin slipped his fingers between buttons, carefully unfastening them one by one. Eliot’s breathing quickened, his belly rising and falling under Quentin’s hands. He pushed the waistcoat open and set to work on Eliot’s shirt, untucking it from the waistband of his pants, popping open each button with reverence.

Quentin ran his hand down Eliot’s bare chest once his shirt was open, down to the bandage covering half his belly. “I’m gonna take this off, okay?” Eliot nodded and Quentin peeled back the bandage. Underneath, a line of sutures over an angry scar, bright red and half-healed over. 

“What are you going to do?” Eliot asked.

“Just a minor mending.” Quentin smirked as Eliot eyed him curiously.

The magic moved through him so easily. He held his hands over the line of Eliot’s wound as every atom in his body began to pulse. Gently, then growing, and Quentin swore a light began to radiate from the palms of his hands. Beneath him, the angry wound turned from red to pink to white, the sutures holding it together dissolving and slipping away into nothing. 

“Oh my god.” Eliot bolted upright as Quentin pulled his hands away. He rubbed his hand over his perfectly unmarked flesh. “How did I never know you could do that?”

“To be fair I didn’t even know it was going to work.” Quentin laughed, then gasped as Eliot pulled him into his lap.

“I think you also sobered me up. Which is going to be…” Eliot slipped his hands up the back of Quentin’s shirt. “Helpful.”

“I’ve missed this,” Quentin said, resting his forehead against Eliot’s. “I’ve missed you so much, El.”

They kissed, and at once Quentin felt the weight of his old life slipping away. His rebirth complete, his body fresh and warm and alive. “I didn’t want to die,” he whispered into Eliot’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I wanted nothing more than to come back to you.”

“That’s why you’re here now,” Eliot said. “This is where you were meant to be.”

Eliot flipped Quentin over onto his back, pressed his body into the mattress, licked into his mouth and swallowed down his sigh. He nuzzled against Quentin’s ear and whispered, “I can feel your magic inside of me.”

“Better than Chatwin’s Torrent?” Quentin wrapped his arms and legs around Eliot and drew him close.

“You’ve healed every part of me.” Eliot kissed Quentin’s neck. “Do you want me to make love to you?”

“Yes,” Quentin gasped. “Yes.”

Eliot pulled away, shucked off his waistcoat and shirt. He was hard, the front of his slacks tented with his erection in a way that made Quentin flush down to his chest. He pulled his own shirt off, tossed it down to the floor, laughing as he helped Eliot fumble with his belt.

When they were both stripped bare they lay facing one another on the bed. Eliot brushed the hair out of Quentin’s face and smiled. “I love you,” he said. “This whole week I’ve just been thinking how I should have told you that more. Even before Fillory. I should have told you what you meant to me.”

Quentin nuzzled into Eliot’s cheek. “I’d rather you just show me.”

Eliot snaked an arm around Quentin’s middle and pulled him close. “Now that I can do,” he said, and sealed Quentin’s mouth in a kiss.

Eliot pinned Quentin to the mattress, reached between their bodies and took Quentin’s cock into his hand. It was as though he’d never been touched, and Quentin wondered absently if this were part of that whole resurrection thing. Every cell, every nerve, every part of him finding itself anew. Virginal. Quentin almost laughed.

“I know you don’t like the spell,” Eliot mumbled against Quentin’s lips. “But I just really want to be inside of you right now, and I promise you a lifetime of foreplay after if you just let me—”

“Do it,” Quentin said, running his hands along the slope of Eliot’s back. “Do it. I want you inside of me right now, El.”

The spell was simple, three whispered words of Gaelic and a touch of Eliot’s fingers. Quentin was slick and open and ready to take him in less time than it took to gasp out Eliot’s name, and Eliot was lining himself up and sinking in before Quentin could even think to beg. Quentin wrapped his legs around Eliot’s hips and drew him in, moaning into Eliot’s mouth, tangling his fingers in Eliot’s hair.

Eliot buried his face in Quentin’s neck as he rocked his hips. “I love you,” he sobbed. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Hey.” Quentin took Eliot’s face in his hands. “Hey. Look at me. El, hey. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You were dead.” Eliot’s face was wet with tears. “I was going to come for you.”

“What?”

“I was going to tear the Underworld apart.” Eliot’s body stilled. “I was going to give it a few more days and then go to Lipson, ask her to heal me. And then—”

“El.” Quentin swiped the tears away from Eliot’s face. “El, I’m here. I’m alive.”

“You’re alive,” Eliot said, his face beaming and his eyes damp.

“I’m alive.” Quentin kissed Eliot’s lips. “And I need you to start moving again before I lose my mind.”

Eliot laughed as his body came back to life. He moved into Quentin with new purpose, sucking kisses into his neck and whispering love into his ear. Quentin’s whole body sparked with magic. God magic, he thought. Eliot’s body the Secret Sea, every thrust of Eliot’s cock into him granting Quentin some new sight: Their past, their present, their future.

Eliot came with a sob into Quentin’s neck, trembling violently in his arms. Quentin held him closely after, whispering, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” When finally Eliot pulled himself from Quentin with a sigh, he slipped down his body to finish Quentin off with his mouth. Quentin tugged at Eliot’s hair and thrust once deep into Eliot’s throat, and that was all it took. He cried out Eliot's name, coming undone like it was the first time. And it was, Quentin knew, here in this new beginning, his body thrumming with the light of all the magic in the universe.

They lay tangled together after, laughing easily, smiling as they’d never smiled before. Eliot pressed his lips to Quentin’s bare shoulder and let out a happy little sound. “I really hope this isn’t all just some fucked up illusion spell.”

Quentin hummed, shut his eyes. “I hope I’m not in heaven.”

“No,” Eliot said, drawing Quentin nearer. “You’re here with me. And I’m with you. Heaven’s got nothing on that.”

—

A day passed. Quentin sat with Julia in the park and watched the clouds move by overhead. "Maybe you were The Indestructress all along," she said.

Quentin laughed. "Maybe so."

"How's Eliot?"

"Good. Totally healed. A little minor mending goes a long way."

"Is that what you're calling your penis now?"

"Shut it." Quentin lit a cigarette, passed one to Julia. He took a drag and said, "What are we even supposed to do now that the fate of all magic isn't resting on our shoulders?"

Julia enchanted her lips, turned her smoke rings into flowers in the air. "Guess we'll just have to figure that out. I'd say we're all due for something good."

"Yeah," Quentin smiled. "We really are."

**Author's Note:**

> So... the finale broke me in a way I didn't realize a work of fiction possibly could. I plan on writing a more plot-heavy fix-it at some point but for now I just needed to get something out to bring Q back to life. He is ours now and we're going to treat him so well. <3


End file.
